Pride Induced Agony

Mauna Kea pierces the atmosphere above the big island of Hawaii at 13,752 feet. It is the longest continuous uphill bicycle climb in the world. That’s why I was there in 2017, to climb it on my road bike, along with five others I had coordinated with online to reduce costs.

After landing in Kona, I drove in a Kia rental with a guy named Stephen, who I’d not met previously, over to our Airbnb in Hilo. We’d begin our ascent from town the following day. I told him my goal of summiting in under six hours, which would have put me in the top ten fastest known times. Stephen was rail thin and veiny, he looked like a cyclist. He looked over at me with a smirk and laughed. Later that night, at our Airbnb, I heard him telling the other cyclists my goal. But, he told them as he laughed, making smug comments about how I should have ‘eased up on the cookies’ if I had dreams of summiting in less than six hours.

Oh man, Stephen really lit a fire inside of me. Before the interactions with him, I wanted to summit in record time for my own pointless personal challenge. Now, this was a much more important pursuit. My ego was hurt. My poor ego. Stephen thought I couldn’t do it. Worse, he kept insinuating that he’d be at the top before me.

He was right in his estimation of my physical condition. I was not near peak form, not close. Long gone were the days when I’d eat eggs and rice for dinner after eight hour training rides. I had turned into a weekend warrior type over the last year. I hadn’t raced my bike in a long time and didn’t care all that much about being fast. Except... within my own head, I still was fast. Despite having done no proper training to prepare for Hawaii, and despite being, indeed, a bit chunky by cyclist standards - I still believed I could summit in less than six hours.

I was pissed off the whole night and didn’t sleep much. I was uncomfortable too. Being the youngest, I took the floor that night. There were only four beds in the Hilo house.

In the morning, as we all prepared, I made sure Stephen saw what I was packing for the forty-two mile ascent. Five Kit Kats, three Reeses, two Snickers, and a Coca Cola in my back jersey pocket. Honestly, I would’ve much preferred the Clif bars and electrolyte drinks like the others were packing, but I am a stubborn bastard. In the unlikely event that I did summit in under six hours, and more importantly beat Stephen to the top, I wanted the loss to sting that much more for him. What the hell was wrong with me? It made sense at the time.

The sun wasn’t up yet, but the slowest of the five planned on taking up to twelve hours to summit, so we started real early. It was clear and warm in Hilo and the summit was just visible to the naked eye. It was so far away, and so high up. I felt that six hours wasn’t just difficult, but impossible for me. But Stephen was in sight, with his carbon fiber wheels and leg veins. No way I’d let him sense any weakness, Hell no. I took out a reeses and popped two in my mouth just before the five of us started climbing, making sure he was looking while I did so.

My heart was pounding with hurt pride. I was genuinely nervous and dreading the physical agony ahead. See, when I planned to summit in six hours, I had planned to try. If and when my lungs began burning beyond tolerance, or if I cramped, or just plain decided it was my day, I would’ve just given up. Now, I couldn’t. Because now Stephen and his snide comments were locked solid in my psyche. I knew that this would be a monumental effort and would surely be the most painful hours that I’d felt on the bike, because I was not going to give up. I was going to put out as many watts as I physically could for the entirety of the ascent, and when I hit the wall of my physical limits, I’d push back against it. I’d find out just how far I could go, and I truly didn’t know.

So, we set off. The climb starts in town. We went through a couple of lights as a group of five, but once we made it to the main highway, I accelerated in a foolish way. Foolish because this was a marathon of sorts. And you don’t win a marathon by burning all your matches at the start, so the saying goes. Hell with that saying though, and hell with Stephen!

On my Garmin unit I had only two measurements set on my screen: elapsed time and total distance. After twenty minutes or so I looked back to see if Stephen was going to try to follow my acceleration. To my horror, he was not but ten feet behind me and not breathing hard at all. I was. I offered a smile and tried talking casually, like I was just out for a Sunday stroll and saw an old friend, but Stephen didn’t entertain my bullshit. He knew my motives by now I and he was clearly equally competitive.

When cycling with others, it’s customary to each take a turn in the lead position in order to block the wind for your comrades. Stephen was not interested in sharing the load. That really poured gasoline on my fire.

For three hours we rode up the main highway like that. The intense silence was only broken by my breathing which was quite a bit louder than Stephens. I’m stubborn as hell, but not delusional. I saw the writing on the wall, but would not accept it. Stephen was stronger. He wasn’t breathing hard. He looked at relative ease. Me, I was burning on the inside. Lactate acid coursed into every crevice of my body. My lungs were red hot and hurting more than necessary because I was trying to pant quietly.

The access road was in sight now. It is a right turn from the main highway that takes you to the Observatory atop Mauna Kea. It is a most unfriendly sight. The gradient of the highway averages around four percent, but once on the access road it pitches up substainstally and visibly. One can see the ribbon looking road twist unrelenting up the face of the volcano. Stephen was thinking the same thing and said something like, ‘Damn, just gets harder and harder huh.’

Weakness? Did I hear weakness. My lungs and legs and arms and fingers and toes no longer burned. I looked back into his eyes and accelerated with power that surprised myself. I could only think about the summit now, and getting there before Stpehen. About being at the top relaxed and composed when Stephen eventually made it up.

As the air got thinner and colder over the next hour, Stephen stayed in sight. The road twisted and turned and sometimes I’d steal a glance back, to check on my enemy. I began to notice him pedaling differently, more strained than before. Having made real progress by now, it became a real possibility the Candy Man would prevail. I revelled in that thought while my breathing became even more strained in the thin air.

As I passed the ten thousand foot sign, I looked back. No Stephen. He was far behind. Too far back to catch me unless I completely faded in the final three thousand vertical feet. There was not a cloud in sight, but apart from that I didn’t commit much else to memory. I was in an unworldly amount of pain. Pain I was forcing upon myself. With the thinning air it felt like my lungs were sucking in shards of glass. I kept my head down, looking at my handlebars and red hands, because looking up only delivered mental torture. The road still, traveled up, up and up. Getting steeper and steeper.

I didn’t stop though. Not once. As the timer on my Garmin ticked over the 6 hour mark I still had over a mile to go. An agonizing mile that I practically crawled up. I had reached my physical limit. No matter how much I wanted to keep putting watts into my pedals, it didn’t matter. I felt like the muscles in my legs were now jelly. I started ‘delivering the mail’ as they call it in cycling. Weaving side to side across the road to decrease the gradient, if only minutely.

When I got to the top, I failed to unclip from my pedals and fell over, still sucking wind like a freight train. I just laid there smiling though, because I had won! I beat Stephen! Six hours and thirty-four minutes of pride induced agony. But, I won.

I don’t know much about Astrology. I’ve dated a few ladies who have been very passionate about it, but never found much comfort in it myself.

I know that Leo’s are said to be stubborn though. My stubbornness is unparalleled.

Additionally, when I google ‘Leo traits’, I see: arrogant, self centered, and inflexible - among others. Without doubt, those describe some of my flaws as a person.

‘They’ also say that Leo’s are Creative, passionate, generous, warm-hearted, cheerful, humorous, and I think those are pillars of my personality as well.

Leo is a fire sign. And maybe fire is the best way to describe me. I have a fire in me that burns, at times, out of control. Anything I do is done with conviction and self belief, sometimes misguidedly so. When tamed though, that fire takes me amazing places.